


Taking the Hand that Claws Through From the Dark

by RikoYuriScream



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hands, Mild Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Trans Female Character, Trans Marianne von Edmund, Were-Creatures, beast marianne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25483732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikoYuriScream/pseuds/RikoYuriScream
Summary: Every campus has its own "Seven Wonders". In the Monastery at Garreg Mach, two of those supposed cryptids have chosen the surrounding woods as their haunt. The Full Moon Beast and the Midnight Woodsman. It is inevitable, then, that they would meet eventually.*CW notes: Suicidal ideation is hinted at, but never clearly depicted. Violence is present but at its worst is at the same level as canon at its worse. Some faceless enemy soldier deaths are depicted, though without much detail. Light sexual content. Reference to deadnaming.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	1. Month 1, Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments if you want! I haven't published anything in a long time. Special thanks to demonladys for beta and being wonderful to bounce ideas around with.

Hilda's axe cleaves through the armor of another soldier, leaving them crumpled against the wall of the hallway along with dozens of others like them. Claude yawns from behind her, his bow strung but without an arrow gracing its string. "you know Hilda, I like this strategy of ours but now that we have more stealth-focused allies wouldn't it be better for them to do this part?"

Hilda kicks a wooden door off its hinges, revealing an empty side-room. "If it works, why change it?"

"Well, for one thing, your technique is a little... loud. Not that it ever seems to make much of a difference anyways... But more importantly, I'm sure they could use you on the front lines"

A mage comes rushing into view further down the hall, and begins chanting, but before their incantation finishes a throwing ace plunges into them. "What, you want me to be all leading the charge? A big hero like my brother? As if."

"Hey, your brother gets results. If not for him a lot of important battles would have gone the other way."

Hilda huffs and turns toward Claude, "Look, it's just not my style, okay? You should get that by now."

"I know jus- HILDA LOOK OUT" Claude suddenly grabs Hilda's shoulder, leaping over her and pushing her down while readying an arrow to fire down the hall, striking another mage, though not before they send out a bolt of magic energy that strikes Claude in the shoulder.

"Claude?! CLAUDE!! What the hell Claude what the hell" Hilda hurriedly checks the wound, then her pockets.

Claude coughs up a few drops of blood. "I knew I should've grabbed some vulneraries" he mutters weakly.

"God, you idiot! Why would you do that? Just let me get hit next time for Goddess's sake." Hilda rifles through the uniforms of the soldiers she's slain until she finally finds a small brown satchel. She looks up just in time to see another soldier coming down the hall, who she dispatches with a single throwing axe full of her frustration.

"You know Hilda, if we let a third person come with us maybe we could have a healer"

"Oh just shut up already and take this!" Hilda hands the satchel to Claude and grabs his shirt by the collar to tear it open, revealing the wound still crackling from the magic energy.

"Goddess I hate mages. Can you apply it yourself buddy?"

"Yea, I got it. Find some more and finish up in here." Claude winces as he rubs the medicine into his shoulder.

Hilda lifts her axe over her shoulder and looks ahead, her eyes full of anger as she proceeds down the hall.

* * *

Hilda paces around her room. Why did it have to happen at this time of the month? She looks out her window and glares at the moon, full and casting its pale glow across the monastery. She's tried sleeping, but can't get the thoughts out of her mind. Her best friend got hurt because of her. Because she wasn't strong enough to protect him. Because she was a coward. He could've died and it was her fault.

With a huff she opens her closet, then reaches to the back and opens the false back to reveal a long, heavy hooded cloak which she yanks out. She throws it over herself and browses over her collection of axes. Tonight, she wants power. Weight. So she grabs an ornately wrapped silver handle and pulls it in under her cloak and creeps out of her room.

She keeps to the side streets and alleyways. Thankfully, being the type of woman she is she knows which alleyways are known for being secluded and which are actually secluded. She shifts uncomfortably under her cloak, cursing again at how bright the moonlight lit every corner of the monastery and its surroundings. But she presses on, trying harder than ever to make sure she isn't seen.

She finally makes it to the woods, and cuts a path through them that is familiar only to her. She comes to a clearing, or rather, a cleared area. Stumps are scattered around, accompanied by chips of wood and desiccating branches. She scans the outline of the clearing and her eyes linger on a particularly thick tree. "I've been saving this one but it seems like now's the time I need it." she approaches it, hefts her axe over her shoulder, and plunges it into the side of the tree.

* * *

Hilda's eyes are trained on the trunk in front of her, her axe glinting in the moonlight as it deftly chops away, nearing the point where it will be time to fell the tree. She moves her whole body in rhythm with her swings as she starts to wonder how much wood this one will provide. When suddenly, a noise snaps her out of her focus. It is a low and distorted growl. Normally, the animals know to stay away from the big strong lady with the axe, but this did not sound like a normal animal. Hilda hopes it's just some rabid wolf that she would have to put down and not something more dangerous, but she turns and looks towards the source of the sound. Before her, a great figure steps out from the opposite treeline.

Hilda had heard the stories of the “seven wonders”, sure, but she knew for a fact one was fake so she assumed the others were too. And yet, lumbering toward her is one of them in the flesh. The Full Moon Beast. It stands just shy of the tallest branches even hunched over, its front claws, almost humanoid, dragging across the ground where its saliva drips from sharp and gnarled fangs. Its fur is shaggy and stained with blood, presumably from whatever other creatures have been so unfortunate as to tread in its path tonight. Before Hilda can react, the beast pounces at her. She rolls to the side, dodging the initial attack. She hits the floor, and for a moment, she can see the full moon overhead shining through the canopy of trees. It's a serene and beautiful sight, but it is quickly blocked out by the hulking mass of fur pinning her to the cool soil beneath her. Just as it goes to snap at her, Hilda holds her axe in front of herself, letting the beasts fangs chomp against the silver of the handle instead of her neck. To her surprise, the beast seems more effected by this than she expected. It recoils away from her, heaving and clawing at the ground.

It takes a blind, frustrated swing at a nearby tree, gouging into it as deep as Hilda’s strongest axe blows would. For whatever reason, for just a moment, Hilda even feels sorry for it, and has a strange urge to reach out and run her fingers through its fur to soothe it. But she comes to her senses and takes the opportunity to flee. She pushes her way through the brush, caring not for the broken branches scratching at her skin. She can still hear the beast whining and growling behind her as she rushes away as fast as her legs will take her. Eventually she pushes past the threshold of the woods and the monastery comes back into view. As she slows and takes deep, gulping breaths, she asks herself why she didn't just put an end to the beast right then and there, and finds herself coming short of an answer.


	2. Month 1, Part 2

The bell rings out over the campus as morning classes are called into session. Hilda reluctantly moves to her desk with one last "you're sure you're ok?" to Claude as he sits at his. Claude's arm is in a sling and his shoulder bandaged, but just as magic can deal great harm, it is plenty potent as a salve to any wound. Though there was no magic yet discovered to calm the storm of Hilda's thoughts this morning. Unfortunately, as soon as she sits down, Professor Byleth calls upon her.

"Hilda, Marianne is unable to attend class today. She seems to have had an intense allergic reaction to something she ate last night and has been in a terrible way since. if you would kindly bring her a copy of your notes for today's lecture I would greatly appreciate it." Hilda groans, but an image pops in her head of the sullen yet kindhearted woman doubled over in stomach pain all through the night and she figures it'd be wrong to complain. She wasn't going soft or anything, but this would give her a good distraction anyways.

She scoots closer towards Ignatz and as the lecture begins, copies what he writes down. She once tried copying from Lysithea, but while she certainly is studious her handwriting is outright illegible. And it's not like she's going to actually transcribe her own notes, no matter who they’re for or how sick that person is. The little bit of scheming and slyness puts Hilda's mind at ease and she cracks a slight smile. This feels much more right and normal to her.

* * *

Marianne lays in her bed, clutching her stomach. At this point, she's used to waking up at the crack of dawn, disheveled and covered in blood not her own, just outside her campsite. It happens like clockwork, every full moon - as difficult as it is, the regularity at least allows her to be prepared and isolated when it comes.

What was new this morning was the terrible ache in her stomach and the swelling in her mouth and throat. She had run through the possibilities in her head, thinking maybe she had eaten something rotten, but as a healer, she knew an allergic reaction when she saw one. However, she does not know of any allergies from which she suffers. She tries to recall anything from the last night but as always, the time when the beast has taken her over is naught but a red-tinted fog in her mind. Just as she sighs and lays back in her bed, resigned to figure it out when she has a bit more energy, a knock comes at her door.

"Marianne!~"

She doesn't need to ask to know who it is. No one else even pretends to be glad to speak with her. She wishes Hilda wasn't just pretending, but then, anyone who would ever be excited for interaction with her would only be disappointed, so she supposes it's for the best. At least Hilda lets her imagine what itd be like sometimes.

"Hello Hilda. My apologies for missing class, I am feeling quite under the weather. I should be better tomorrow though, so I will see you then." She rolls over in bed to face the wall.

"Well, uh, I was hoping to come in if that's okay."

Marianne sighs. Normally she'd shoo Hilda off, however annoyed she may sound, but at the moment she just doesn't have the energy to argue it so she simply offers a resigned "Come in."

Hilda's annoyance doesn't show on her face when she comes through the door. Marianne has never seen an emotion show on Hilda's face that was not put there very intentionally. She manages to sit up in bed and pull her knees to her chest.

"So what was it you needed from me?"

"Nothing Marianne! I just thought I'd bring you the notes from today's lecture and check up on you! Can't a girl just do a favor for a sick friend?"

Marianne lowers her head into her hand and sighs again. "Well give the professor my thanks for sending you. And thank you for bringing the notes."

Hilda scratches the back of her head and lets out a short chuckle, looking to a corner of the room. "Really though Marianne, are you alright? I mean, clearly you're not 'cause you're sick, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, yes. I was camping last night and there must've been something off with what I caught to eat." She gestures to her camping gear at the foot of her bed, not quite tidied and put away considering the state she's been in. Hilda suddenly looks uncharacteristically nervous.

"Oh! You were camping last night? Heh, hear anything weird? I mean, uh, you know all those tales about the woods" Hilda offers a small, apprehensive laugh.

"Ah, yes I've heard of them but I don't venture too deep in and I sleep heavily." Marianne begins to worry Hilda might have seen or heard her in the night, but only for a moment before she remembers that Hilda is the last person in the world to spend a night in the woods. If she needed anything from them she'd just get someone else to fetch it while she relaxes in a well furnished, well lit room with a sturdy roof. Surely Hilda is just afraid of the legends. She certainly is one for gossip and maybe Lysithea has rubbed off on her. The thought of Hilda being afraid of the woods crosses Marianne as actually kind of cute.

"Well! That's, good. Those woods are dangerous, you should never venture too far in! Anyways! let me help with your gear here!"

Whether it was the anxiety about the woods or having been called out earlier Marianne wasn't sure what inspired Hilda to spontaneously offer to help clean something, but either way she did not have the chance to protest before Hilda was collecting the poles and canvas and packing things away properly. Marianne lays back. She had washed herself of blood before getting back into her tent that morning and couldn't recall anything else incriminating that might be there, and she is just too tired to worry about it more than that, so she lets Hilda continue on, appreciating the rare actual favor from her. Her eyelids slowly flutter closed, exhausted from the socializing.

* * *

Hilda stands with her back to her closed door, holding a scrap of cloth. She had found it tucked into Marianne's tent, like it had gotten caught up when the tent was taken down. She snuck it away because the fabric looked all too familiar, which she confirms as she approaches her closet and holds it to the cloak she had worn last night, matching a tear that she had not even noticed.


	3. Month 2, Part 1

Hilda once again dons her cloak on the night she least wants to. She looks again to her weapon rack and reaches for the silver, strapping it to her back, and the iron, to her waist. She had thought long in the passing month about this decision. Silver if she must slay the beast and iron if she must not. If Marianne was close enough to the beast to have that scrap of her cloak end up in her gear, there is likely some connection between them. Hilda doesn't want to leap to any conclusions but the image of Miklan Anschutz Gautier flesh rending as he transformed into a monster lingers in her mind. Hilda simply likes to cover every possibility (not that she would ever let anyone know she put that much thought into things). She hefts her bedroll and provisions over her shoulder and ties a pair of vulneraries to her belt and slowly creaks open her door, looking down the hall. Marianne had left a few hours ago, as soon as her daily duties were done with, but Hilda waited til just the edge of dusk, trying to balance avoiding detection with not showing up too late to her stakeout.

She once again slinks through the monastery. It wouldn’t be abnormal for her to be seen up and about at this time of day but it certainly would for her to be seen geared up as she is. Hilda Valentine Goneril doesn’t camp. Certainly not alone and certainly not without more creature comforts than a bedroll and a sack. Thankfully her talent carries her through. She muses that she must never let the professor know how good she is at this, lest she be made to train as a thief or assassin.   


Once Hilda makes it to the woods, it doesn’t take her much longer to find Marianne’s camp. The smell of what seems to have been a  _ very _ hearty meal carried far. Hilda can’t help but think it must be for the beast, one way or another. She grips her axe tight as the tent comes into view through the brush. It appears she’s arrived at just the right time, because Marianne comes out of the tent with a rough blanket wrapped around her. It doesn’t look like she has anything else with her, and Hilda notes that if she’s not carrying any food she must’ve already eaten it all. Hilda follows at a safe distance as Marianne heads further into the woods.

The trek is uneventful. Hilda is careful not to make any sound, and when she does she ducks down and changes her path to hide the impression of something following Marianne. Marianne eventually comes to a small clearing just as the last blushes of dusk make way for the pale blue light of the moon.She kneels and the rays of moonlight illuminate her genuflecting form, refracting through tears dripping from her face. It’s not the first time Hilda has seen her crying and praying but it still wrenches at her heart. She has to hold herself back from going out to wrap an arm around those heaving shoulders.

As Hilda watches though, the heaving of sobs gives way to violent jerks and twitches. Marianne falls forward, bracing on her elbows while she keeps her hands desperately clasped in prayer. Hilda can see her knuckles as white as pearls shimmering with tears under the moon, quivering with a beg to the Goddess. Marianne’s prayers begin to spill out of her lips through sobs, “Please… at least… don’t let me… hurt anyone… please… Goddess please…” Then the sobs turn to choked screams, then to low growls. Her body seems to grow and shift under the blanket, and Hilda sees a claw scratch at the earth where Marianne’s foot should be. She watches as Marianne’s hands, still gripping each other fiercely, turn to claws which pierce each other in their grasps. Marianne’s wet face elongates into a snout and a final scream turns into a roar. The beast that was Marianne takes a moment to catch its breath before sniffing the air. Almost instantly, its eyes snap to Hilda. Its claws stretch and crack as it grips the earth, ready to pounce.

Hilda, despite being paralyzed in terror, is after all a soldier, and raises her weapon in time. She smashes the gnashing maw away with the butt of her axe, then wheels it around to hack into the beast’s shoulder. As blood seeps out while she pulls the axe back, she feels a twinge of regret. She doesn’t want to hurt Marianne but she has to stop this monster somehow. When she sees the wound quickly heal, though, she feels both relieved and afraid. At least she doesn’t have to worry about leaving Marianne scarred. The beast recovers and lashes out a claw. Hilda ducks to the side but it catches her arm, leaving a triad of deep gashes. She plants her feet firmly and delivers a counterattack to the beast’s flank. She remembers from the professors lessons on fighting normal beasts that enough hits can leave them stunned, and that’s all she can hope to do. Though, this one seems different, and she has no allies or battalions with her this time. Still, she will not flee this time. The fear that was in Marianne's voice as she prayed still rings in Hilda’s ears and she knows that if there is anything she can do to ease that fear she  _ will _ do it. 

Hilda's hands grip her axe tight as the beast barrels into her, pinning her against a tree. It bites into her shoulder, but this doesn't stop her from wildly slamming her axe down over and over on its back. It lets go and swipes at her other side, knocking her to the ground. She swings at its head but it dodges back, then bites down hard on her ankle. She readies another swing but it whips its head back and forth and Hilda feels a sharp pain in her ankle. She stifles a scream, not wanting the whole forest to hear, but she knows her ankle is broken. The beast knows too, and it lets go and ducks into the brush. Hilda can hear it prowling around, trying to find an opening to strike her. She takes a deep breath and listens close. When she hears the beast pounce she raises her axe up just in time for its jaws to wrap around the shaft instead of her neck. She holds it there as it gnaws on the wood. She looks into its eyes for the first time and is stunned at how human they still look. They look both crazed and terrified. It is a look that’s animalistic, yet filled with fears beyond those an animal can imagine. Hilda wishes she could reach inside and grasp Marianne’s hand but all she can do is keep her grip tight on her axe.

Then, the axe hilt snaps. The beast’s teeth sink into Hilda once again. She stabs the jagged end of the butt half into the beast’s neck, which is enough to make it yelp and leap back. Hilda’s vision grows foggy as more of her blood seeps into the earth beneath her. She’s not sure that she can make it. She only has a fraction of a moment before the beast will be on her again. She considers the other axe on her back. At this point, it seems likely only one person will make it out of this. She wonders what Holst would do in a situation like this, great warrior that he is. She pictures him telling her “You must do what a warrior must do, even if it pains you. You must win, Hilda.”. She struggles to stand and as the beast readies another charge, she mutters under her breath “Fuck that.”

Hilda grasps the splintered top half of her axe with determination, knuckles going white as her gritting teeth. She puts every ounce of the last of her strength into the weapon as she cracks it down on the beast’s skull just when it rockets into her. They both go tumbling, and when they come to a rest Hilda looks over to see the beast seemingly unconscious. A small smile spreads across her face. She wants to sleep now, having worked so hard. She really isn’t cut out for effort after all. She knows that in her state, something bad might happen if she does, but she is just so awfully tired. 

Her eyelids flutter closed and she imagines Marianne finding her in the morning. She imagines the sobs that would wrack her. She imagines how painful it would be for her to sob so after having been knocked unconscious. Then, a memory comes to her unbidden. A time Hilda told some silly joke in class that Marianne actually laughed at. She remembers catching a glimpse of Marianne’s smile before she covered her mouth with her hand. Hilda had wished she could move that hand to see that smile again. Hilda still wants to see that smile again. If Marianne wakes to find she’s killed Hilda, she might never smile again, let alone the fact Hilda would never see it. Hilda’s eyes snap open. She grabs a vulnerary. She can’t manage to free it from her belt but she takes some of the salve onto her fingers and rubs what she can into her deepest wounds before she finally passes out.

* * *

Marianne wakes with a splitting headache. “First a stomachache, now this? Just what is going on?” She wonders. She strains to focus her vision and her stomach drops. She sees Hilda just a couple of feet from her, covered in blood. She assumes the worst but notices shallow breaths still moving Hilda’s chest. She scrambles over as tears freely flow. She presses her palms to Hilda’s body and begins the incantations of the strongest healing spells she knows. As she chants she tastes the salt of her tears and tries to ignore that she can also still barely taste blood on her teeth. She also ignores the blood still on her hands that is being joined by more as she presses into Hilda’s wounds. She ignores it all because if she does not she will not be able to undo any of the damage it shows she’s done. Even when the magic has done all it can do, Marianne still channels more. Only when her magic is exhausted does Marianne stop, clasping her hands together over Hilda’s body to pray. She feels ashamed in asking the Goddess for so much when she was already begging of her last night, but it is all she can think to do. Hilda stirs under her, opening her eyes in a squint. “Hey, you’re okay,” is all she can manage to get out before she passes back out, though this time with a weary smile on her face. Marianne stares at her. “ _ I’m _ okay!? Hilda I just - I mean, you’re the one who… who almost just died! Who I… almost killed... How could you be worrying about me!?” but her complaints do not reach Hilda, who smiles on in her sleep, her breathing now steady.


	4. Month 2, Part 2

Marianne awakens in the infirmary. It takes her a moment to remember what has brought her here, but the lingering headache provides some hints. Then a gruesome memory flashes through her mind and she remembers. She throws the covers off and is about to get out of her cot when Manuela appears to grab her arms and hold her steady.

“Marianne! Marianne! It’s okay, we’ve already got search parties out for whatever did this. And Hilda’s okay, too.”

“Is she? Are you sure?”

“Yes. She still has a lot of recovering to do, but you did a wonderful job stabilizing her, especially considering your concussion.”

Marianne relaxes a moment, letting her panic turn to guilt and self-hatred. “It’s my fault…”

“Now Marianne, Hilda getting more hurt than you doesn’t mean it was your fault. If you weren’t there to heal her she would’ve died! You saved her Marianne, don’t doubt yourself. The only one at fault is whatever creature did this. Can you tell me anything about it?”

Marianne winces. “Yes… I suppose… I should tell you everything about that beast. It’s already hurt one, surely it won’t stop at this. You see,”

Just then, another voice speaks up, “Let me tell it, Marianne, I was closer! It was one of those demonic beasts! I don’t know how it got out there, maybe the enemy snuck it in or something.” Hilda grunts as she pulls the curtain from around her cot. “It was a big one, but me and Marianne actually managed to finish it off and it poofed away just like the others right before we passed out.”

Marianne stares at Hilda. She's in disbelief  — after facing the thing herself Hilda must know the truth. Her guilt boils in her stomach as she looks at the rust colored bandages covering Hilda’s body. She particularly notes the bandage on Hilda’s cheek and chin and she prays that she hasn’t scarred that face. Though of course she would be the one to destroy something so pristine and beautiful.

Manuela picks up her sheathed sword and straps it to her waist. “Well, even if that beast is taken care of we should certainly search to see if there are more, or if an enemy agent is lurking in the forest somewhere. I’ll have someone come change your bandages shortly, Hilda. I’m off to meet with the search party.”

Marianne turns to Manuela as she leaves and mutters, “But, that’s not…”

Hilda shushes her, holding her finger to her lips until the door closes behind Manuela. “Look Marianne, I know that’s not what happened but… If I tell them what did happen you might be in danger. We don’t know how everyone would react!”

Marianne’s eyes go wide. “Why would you protect me if you know I did this to you”

“I think it’s kinda unfair to say  _ you _ did this to me. I mean it was pretty clear you weren’t really in control there.”

“That’s exactly it, though. I’m the one who can’t control it. I’m the one who lets it run rampant”

Hilda rests her chin in her hand and chews her lip, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. “Marianne do you remember that time we tidied the library? You were so bad at it  _ I _ had to actually do the work for you. You couldn’t do it yourself but that just meant you needed some help. It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t do it, that’s just how it happened to be!”

Marianne scowls, “Hilda that’s hardly an appropriate comparison. Unorganized library books don’t prowl the forest at night mauling whatever they come across.”

“Maybe but I think it’s similar enough! You just need some help!”

“And who would help a bloodthirsty monster that should simply be put down? Who  _ could _ help something like me?”

Hilda shakily strains to bring her hands up, pointing both her thumbs at her face and turned a wince into a wink. “This girl!”

Marianne frowns but her head is starting to hurt again so she lays back down and turns away from Hilda to face the wall. The door opens again and she hears Mercedes cheerfully announce that she will change Hilda’s bandages.

* * *

Hilda peeks from behind the curtain as the door opens. She calls out, hushed but harsh.

"Claude!! I told you to come here as  _ soon _ as Marianne was discharged!"

"Well sorry princess! should I have just been waiting patiently outside the door all day?"

Hilda rolls her eyes. "Look, seriously, this is important. I can't tell you much but I really need you to keep an eye on Marianne whenever she's alone for a while. I'm worried about her."

"Oh. Well that I can certainly do. What happened out there anyways? I heard your explanation but when I found you two out there it didn't look like any divine beast attack I've ever seen. Is this related to your uncharacteristic nightly library trips all this past month?"

"Claude. Really. As a favor to me. Don't look into it. I've got it handled"

"Are you sure you're alright? You're going awfully out of your way in working on this. And I don't know that I've ever heard you  _ refuse _ help."

"I'm fine. Well, aside from all the cuts and bruises. There are things I actually like putting effort into! This is just… interesting. Or like, it's something I need to do. Or something. I don't know just trust me!"

"Okay, okay. You got it. I'll make sure Marianne stays safe."

"Thank you Claude. Really."

Claude looks at Hilda with concern before waving goodbye and leaving the infirmary. Hilda lays back in her cot and turns her plans over in her mind. She's gonna make this all work.


	5. Month 3

Hilda sits, her feet dangling down off the branch. She’s not a huge fan of heights but a tree is a tree, and these are similar enough to the one outside the window of her adolescent bedroom. She hears rustling and she blows on a wooden instrument in her hand, letting a sound like a hog’s mating call ring out through the woods around her. Then she pulls the end of a rope hanging next to her and below, an actual hog is freed from its cage. The hog immediately bolts, and is soon followed by a hulking beast. 

It’s a plan that took some planning and resources, but Hilda is proud of it. Thankfully Claude kept to his word about not prying even when Hilda kept asking questions to help her figure it all out. He also didn’t question the dozen extra swine on the monthly supplies receipt. The least difficult part was convincing Marianne to forgo the huge meal she had been making herself eat to “fill the beast’s stomach before it got a chance to hunt” though, considering how little that seemed to help. 

A minute after the beast passes, Hilda carefully climbs down the tree. She’s gone through this process thrice already tonight, and maybe it's because she’s overconfident now that she lands on a fallen branch, which lets out a loud snap. Her eyes go wide and she looks around, standing perfectly still but for the turning of her head and her hands reaching for her axe. It’s not long before the beast comes crashing through the brush, but when it sees her, it digs its claws into the ground, bringing itself to a grinding halt. Hilda looks at it curiously, raising her axe in defense. She remembers the fear she saw in the beast’s face that first night, but now there appears to be another kind of fear in its whole posture. She narrows her eyes and before she has time to figure out what exactly is going on the beast runs off in the other direction. Hilda puts her hands on her hips and smiles. “Heh, some big bad beast, scared of going another round with ol’ Hilda huh?” She skips over to her next position and climbs up, ready to repeat the process.

Three more hogs later, Hilda sees the sky start to brighten from the east, and she hops down once more to the dirt. She grins, impressed with herself for setting the right amount of cages to just last the night and succeeding in keeping the beast occupied. In fact, on the last run it seemed quite tired out. She makes her way through the brush towards where she last heard the beast rustling about.

Marianne’s transformation that last dusk was not any easier to watch than the first time, so Hilda worries what the transformation back will look like, since she was too busy bleeding out unconscious to see that part last time. She finds the beast, just as the morning sunlight is approaching it. It lays curled up amidst the brush, and for that moment Hilda is struck by how strangely cute the beast actually is when it isn’t tearing through anything. She reaches out her hand to pet it but before her hand can reach, the sunlight does. Immediately, Hilda is blinded by a blast of dark purple energy coming off the beast, almost knocking her down or, worse, disheveling her hair worse than it already is. When it fades, the beast has been replaced by Marianne, curled up in the same position and in just as deep a slumber. Hilda notices she still has her hand outstretched and looks past it at Marianne’s naked form. She quickly pulls her hand back and feels heat rising to her cheeks. 

Hilda shakes her head and grabs the cloak from around her shoulders, then gently sits Marianne up enough to wrap it around her. Once Marianne is sufficiently swaddled, Hilda picks her up completely, holding her in both arms in front of her. Marianne stirs, but does not seem to wake. She makes a particularly exhausted sounding noise and reaches to Hilda’s chest, tightly grasping the fabric of Hilda’s top and clinging. Her scrunched up sleeping face seems to relax a little. Hilda smiles down at her, feeling something she assumes is just satisfaction at her job well done. The time seems to slip by easily while Hilda takes Marianne to their camp. They have set up two tents, but Hilda opts to stay in Marianne’s to keep an eye on her. Though both eyes are soon fluttering closed.

* * *

Hilda is woken by something rustling just above her. She opens her eyes and looks down to see Marianne lifting the hem of her top and looking sternly at her skin. Her tired eyes widen and she sleepily grumbles, “I told you you don’t need to repay me Marianne, certainly not like that.”

Marianne jolts back, letting the shirt drop and blushing at the insinuation. She frowns despite her reddened cheeks and crosses her arms, “I was just looking to see how badly I hurt you and where I’d need to heal you.”

Hilda sits up and stretches. “Well Marianne, you don’t have to worry. Just like I told you I’d be, I was completely unharmed.” She gives Marianne a confident grin, hiding the fact that when she did tell Marianne that initially, she did not have much faith it’d be accurate.

Marianne sighs and her shoulders visibly relax. She leans back. “I cannot fathom how that happened but I suppose I can’t deny you look completely fine.”

“Yup! Get this, that beast was actually scared of  _ me _ ! Your ol’ pal Hilda really is the best of the best, and it must’ve learned so after that night!”

Marianne rests her chin in her hand. “That is actually… very surprising. It doesn’t quite make sense but if it helps keep you safe, I can’t complain.” Marianne lays back down on her bedroll. “Hilda, why are you doing this anyways? Even if you didn’t get hurt it must’ve been exhausting.”

Hilda twiddles her thumbs. She hasn’t actually been completely sure about the answer to that herself but she feels an urge to at least try to honestly explain it to the other girl. “Well, I don’t exactly know, but, when I first looked into the beast’s eyes something just… made me want to help. It’s like it was calling out, but not to me. Just calling out to anyone and anything, and for some reason that made me want to answer more than if it was to only me. It’s like it was calling out to all the world but I was the only one listening. I couldn’t just let that go by.” Hilda lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She looks up with a smile plastered on her face but a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Heh, sorry, that was weird. I’ve never been good at talking feelings or whatever, just don't worry about all that!”

Marianne looks at her, her mouth just barely open. She doesn’t quite understand everything Hilda said but the part that stuck out to her, that Hilda was  _ listening _ , strikes a heavy chord in her heart. She had never known anyone to care enough to really listen to her. Not even the goddess would listen to her prayers it seemed. But here was this boisterous girl telling her she couldn’t help but care, even for her worst side. She clears her throat. “Well, either way, I appreciate it. Thank you, Hilda. I suppose we can keep doing this, if you really insist.”

“Good! Because I do insist. I’ll keep that pup on a short leash.” Hilda flourishes this with an exaggerated wink.

Marianne's face rapidly heats at Hilda’s word choice. “A pup?,” she thinks, “how could she call a monster like that a pup??” Despite her internal protests though, she cannot force back the smile that alights her face. She stares at Hilda’s face for a moment before realizing that Hilda is staring at her face, surely catching her staring. She flushes and quickly gets up. “Well, we should get packing and get back to the monastery!”

“Ah! Yes, of course. You’re right.”

A small smile persists on each of their faces while they pack up their camp.


	6. Month 4

Hilda swings her legs from her spot up in the tree, gently humming a song she heard Dorothea sing the other day. She sees the beast charge through the brush after one of the hogs she had released, and she lazily waves to the beast, which does not see her.

Then, she is snapped out of her peace by the distant sound of boisterous laughter. No one  _ should _ be camping out here this deep in the woods. No one  _ should _ be out here on a full moon in the dead of the night in defiance of the scary stories she’s been sure to help spread lately. But there was no doubt in what she heard. And of course, when she looks to the beast, it’s clear it heard too. It takes off in the direction of the laughter and Hilda jumps down to pursue. She has no chance of matching its speed but she sprints as hard as she can anyways. This isn’t just about saving whatever idiot kids are out here, it's about saving Marianne too. And saving their secret. She has to stop this no matter what. 

She feels adrenaline pump through her, her legs thrusting her forward with all her strength. She keeps her eyes trained on the hunched furry back breaching along the top of the brush ahead of her. She notices that they are approaching the perimeter of snares she had set up to try to stop this exact thing from happening and with her quick breaths she whispers out a prayer to the goddess. She figures even if the goddess and her aren’t on the best terms, She could do her a solid if it’s for Marianne’s sake.

Whether by divine providence or not, the beast gets snared ahead of her. It immediately sets to freeing itself, and it doesn't take long to tear through the rope with its unnatural strength, but it gives Hilda just enough time to catch up. She pulls out her axe and leaps onto the beast’s back, swiftly bringing the axe handle around its neck. She grabs hold of both ends and presses it to the beast’s throat. Her hands grip tight and she uses her whole body to keep her hold on the beast while trying to twist its body around, away from the campers ahead. She thanks the goddess they are still far enough to not be seen, and hopefully not heard. 

Hilda gives the beast another twist around, pushing with her legs against its haunches and pulling with her arms around its neck, and the beast tumbles over. It sends Hilda rolling off but thankfully she now stands between the campers and the beast. She sets her feet apart in a wide and threatening stance, even baring her teeth for effect. The beast paws at the ground, looking between Hilda and off towards the distant camp. Hilda is ready to jump after it again when, to her surprise, it turns around and trots back to their setup.

She lets out a heavy sigh and lets the head of her axe thud into the ground so she can lean on it. She’s known that there was something strange about the way this beast acts, but there's still something new to surprise her every month. She shrugs her shoulders then hefts her axe over them, leaning her head against the handle as she leisurely strolls back to continue her plan as normal. 

* * *

Hilda awakes to a sizzling sound and a delicious smell. It is already afternoon but she needn’t worry about having overslept, as she has worked her procrastinatory magic to make sure both she and Marianne have completely free mornings after full moons from now on. She stretches and flops out of her bedroll. Yet again she had stayed the night in Marianne’s tent, and she wonders why they even bother bringing two tents as she opens the flap and ducks through the opening. Marianne sits on a log in front of a cooking fire. She is so focused she doesn’t even seem to notice Hilda coming out. Hilda figures she shouldn’t break that focus so she just sits on the other set by the fire and watches the cook work.

Hilda is impressed that Marianne seems to be managing well, and notices Marianne constantly muttering instructions under her breath to herself. Hilda smiles. She finds the sight quite endearing, and very “Marianne,” and she is positive that whatever meal results will be delicious. She admires the way Marianne’s normally clumsy hands make clean, practiced motions with the utensils and spices. She can't help her eyes lingering when Marianne pokes her finger into something then brings it to her mouth to taste, especially with the way her face scrunches in careful consideration immediately after. As Hilda watches, she's not ooh-ing and ah-ing like when watching some showoff chef flourish every move, but the care and gentleness on display just makes her feel ever so comfortable. She feels body relax, all but for the slight tension in her chest that she somehow convinces herself is hunger.

Before Hilda knows it though, the cooking is done, and Marianne sits back with a sigh, wiping her forehead. She notices Hilda and jumps in her seat in surprise. “Oh! You’re awake. W-were you watching me??”

Hilda feels her face grow warm, and she figures the fire must’ve gotten hotter somehow. “I was just curious about your cooking skill! I’m impressed, by the way.”

“W-well, I may be clumsy, but my mother taught me some basic things when she was alive, and they’re easy enough as long as I follow the recipe closely. It’s really nothing impressive.”

Hilda holds out her hands, “Well gimme some and I’ll be the judge of that!”

Marianne hands Hilda one of the plates she prepared and then sits back down with her own. On the plate is half a small loaf of bread, a pair of sausages and of fried eggs, and a pool of thick gravy. Hilda wastes no time in taking her first bite, taking a piece of sausage and bread and dipping them in both the runny yolk and the gravy, and she immediately exclaims with her mouth full, “Mariamme thif ith sho good!!” The food is simple, true, but the simplicity gives the opportunity for the flavors to shine their brightest. Hilda is tempted to shovel it all down but decides to restrain herself so she can really savor each bite. Normally she loves to chat over meals but she wants to focus on this.

She does look up though to see a rare sight — a wide, proud smile on Marianne’s face. She wishes she could see it better but Marianne is pointedly looking down at her own plate, and Hilda guesses she’s embarrassed her. Marianne never takes praise very well but Hilda is happy that this time, rather than dispute it, she’s simply looking away and silently accepting it. Maybe one day Hilda’ll be able to look her in the eyes and see that smile and those reddened cheeks while she tells her how great she really is. Hilda catches herself in her thoughts and shakes her head. Try as she might though, the image she had conjured up does not want to leave her mind, and the food only seems to be making it worse. She hurries through the last third or so of her food and hops up from her seat. “Okay! I’m gonna do some stretches! You know, work out some of that post-beast-management soreness.”

Marianne nods and sets to slowly finishing her food and the whole time Hilda stretches she swears she can feel a pair of eyes on her, but she doesn't find herself minding.

* * *

The walk back to campus is quiet as usual. Hilda has taken a liking to idle chat with Marianne over the months, but in the mornings after beast nights she’s noticed her to be understandably less talkative. She wonders though if she should tell Marianne about what happened last night with the campers. On the one hand, it could really stress Marianne out to know that she could’ve hurt people. But on the other hand, it could really ease her mind to know that Hilda was able to stop it. Plus, Hilda still felt a sense of pride swelling in her chest when she thought about it. Those stupid kids out there have no idea that Hilda saved their lives but she did. No one knew she did. Sure, she saved people’s lives all day on the battlefield, but she’s a soldier. A hero even. That’s her job. But no one knew about this and it made it a little more special. Special as it was though, Hilda still felt like there was exactly one person who she did want to know about it.

“Hey Marianne, you’ll never guess what happened last night…”

-

Hilda opted to alter the story a little to make the situation sound less precarious for the sake of Marianne’s heart. And she’s glad she did because the only expression on Marianne’s face is a good one. 

“Hilda… You’re amazing… Thank you so much.” Marianne turns to face ahead, “To be honest I was still so scared that you wouldn’t be able to stop it. That you would just get hurt again. I’ve been so terrified of hurting you again, Hilda. But I tried to trust you despite it and… now I’m glad I did. You’re really just… amazing.”

Hilda’s whole face had gone scarlet. She had never had anyone compliment her like that. The only times anyone has told her she’s amazing have been stating it like an inherent fact, not an accomplishment. A “you’re amazing so you shouldn’t be messing this up” or a “no one has to worry about you since you’re so amazing”. But the way Marianne said it felt so very different. There was real appreciation in those words, real respect and pride. Hilda decided she very much liked sharing secrets with Marianne.


	7. Month 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for deadnaming and dissociation.
> 
> this chapter ends on a rough note yall!! but itll be ok come next chapter, I promise.

Hilda animatedly chats with Marianne as they take their monthly trek into the woods. Marianne still always wears a grim face these nights but Hilda does her best to cheer her up as much as possible. She is every so often rewarded with a small smile or chuckle from her friend. And a reward they really are -- Hilda cannot get enough of those little breaks through the surface of the misery Marianne always seems to be submerged in. Thankfully those breaches have been coming more and more often lately. Hilda remembers the first time she referred to Marianne as her “friend” and how she seemed to have a completely different aura to her the whole rest of the day. But Hilda wasn’t surprised that no matter how often the breaches came, Marianne still sank back down eventually. She didn’t expect to just cure Marianne of something that’s plagued her her whole life in just a few months. But gods damn it, she would do her best to help. It broke her heart too much to see such a beautiful, smart, kind, and even funny girl so engulfed in despair. Marianne deserved better and Hilda couldn’t help but try to offer her that, just as someone who appreciates good people.

Soon they make it to their camp spot. As they begin to make camp, Hilda ventures a suggestion, “Ugh, you know, it’s so much work setting up two tents. We usually only use one anyways so I can keep an eye on you and you can make sure I'm ok when you wake up anyways. We might as well just use one tent, right? It’d be wayyy easier.”

Marianne halts in the middle of unrolling a sheet of canvas, “I suppose you make a good point,” then she mutters under her breath, “I guess no one will see us anyways…”

“So then it's a deal? Woohoo! I’ll help you set up that one then!” Hilda skips over to Marianne’s side to grab a couple of stakes to drive and they set to work. Hilda, cheerier than ever, continues to chat at Marianne, telling her the latest gossip of the monastery and whatever new jokes she’s heard. She notices that that normally dour face seems stuck in a smile all evening from then on.

Unfortunately, come nightfall, all joviality is gone. Marianne still must suffer the transformation same as every month. Though, Hilda notes that at least it seems to be going easier now. Marianne still cries out in pain and prays to the goddess, but there is less desperation, less fear, than that first night.

The beast comes, ever unhindered, regardless. Hilda takes her position and prepares for another long night.

* * *

As Hilda sits, watching the beast more keenly after last month’s events, she hears a crack under her. She shouldn’t be surprised, considering how many trees she’s been sitting in lately, that eventually this would happen. She slowly, carefully, turns toward the trunk of the tree to try to get a hold of something else to keep herself from falling, but before she can reach out the branch gives way and she plummets to the ground.

She lands in a bush, next to the thick branch that had failed her. She is dazed for a moment, then the first thing to clearly come to her mind is the pain in her rear. She may be a soldier but even a cushioned fall from that high is bound to hurt like Ailell. She lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a scream more in frustration than pain.

She turns to the guilty branch and decides to take her frustration out on it. She grabs it and heaves it into the distance like she’s throwing a tomahawk. She hears the rustling of the beast running about but she decides she deserves a minute to pout so she does just that. She’s mortified, even if no one had seen her fall. She’s especially glad Marianne didn’t see it. She stands and dusts off her butt, then picks some twigs out of her clothes and hair. She huffs and groans and a pair of tears well at her eyes. Here she is, training what must be one of the most dangerous creatures in Fodlan and she’s bested by a stupid tree.

Then, she hears rustling coming towards her, and the unmistakable heavy footfalls of the beast. She snaps to attention, ready to ward off a tackle, but when the beast’s face closes in on her it only looks curious. She wipes her tears away and puts her tough, threatening face back on. The beast doesn’t seem to buy it though, and Hilda thinks it almost looks like it’s smiling. Suddenly, it lunges towards her, and as she’s about to fight back she realizes that rather than its fangs she feels its tongue on her face. By the time she opens her eyes though, it’s backed off and stands a couple feet away from her again.

Then she sees it -- at the beast’s feet is the branch she had just thrown, with some clear bite marks impressed in the middle of it. It doesn’t take much for the explanation to click in her head, as unlikely as it seems. She grabs the stick and shows it to the beast questioningly before throwing it again, then she watches as it does indeed go chasing after it.

This time, when it brings the branch back, Hilda figures she might as well lean in to whatever is happening. She reaches out carefully and places her hand on the beast’s head. Her fingers sink into the thick fur and it sticks up through the cracks between them. It’s a little rough, like that of a stray dog that hasn’t been pet in years. Hilda thinks for a moment that it should get softer over time if she keeps petting it then shakes the thought out of her head. It feels odd to even be doing this now, but when the beast cranes its neck, nudging its head against Hilda’s touch, she can’t help but indulge it (and herself).

Once she thinks the beast has been sufficiently praised, she throws the stick again. Before she knows it, they’ve settled into a nice game of fetch. Hilda wears a smile as bright as the moonlight shining down on them. She muses that the next mage or archer to think they’ll handle her by attacking at range is going to be in for it. The fourteenth time or so that the beast brings the branch back to her, panting and grinning, Hilda goes to pet it again. She’s having so much fun she scratches its ears and starts to talk to it in her voice usually reserved for much smaller animals. “You are such a good puppy! Are you having fun, huh? Huh, puppy?”

Then she catches herself and stops abruptly. She clears her throat and tries to will her blood back away from her cheeks. She turns around, ignoring the head tilt from the beast, and goes to let loose a hog for the beast, returning to what she’s  _ supposed _ to be doing here. Though she does mostly stay with her feet on the ground now. She pushes the memories of the game of fetch out of her thoughts and tries to get through the rest of the night as quickly as possible.

* * *

The walk home in the morning is uncharacteristically quiet. Marianne notes that Hilda seems to be nervous for some reason, and avoids making eye contact. She’s certainly familiar with such behavior coming from herself, but it’s odd to see it coming from the normally bubbly Hilda. By the time they stand in front of their neighboring room doors, Marianne pauses to consider inviting Hilda in to talk. The full moon thankfully fell on a weekend this month, so they’d have plenty of time. She wordlessly opens her mouth, then closes it again. Hilda looks toward her with an awkward smile that conveniently scrunches her eyes closed and says, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow! Or dinner or something! Not that I’m saying we should have dinner together, just, you know, we run into each other sometimes, so like, you know! It’d be silly to say I won’t see you tomorrow ha ha you know what I mean!”

Then, in the blink of an eye, Hilda has retreated to her room and nearly slammed the door. Marianne stares at the closed door for a moment before shrugging and opening her own. She figures she’ll get whatever it is out of Hilda eventually. As Marianne crosses the threshold, she looks down and freezes. Her blood turns cold and her eyes go wide. On the ground, slipped under her door, is a letter with an all-too familiar seal.

She picks up the letter and nearly collapses on her bed. Her hands shake and she struggles to get the envelope open. Her thumb ineffectually slips against the tab a couple of times and it slips through her fingers. She puts her hands to her sides and closes her eyes, then clutches her sheets and takes a few slow, deep breaths. Her body now steadied, she picks the letter back up and tears it open as quickly as possible. She reluctantly starts reading.

“Dear  Œ»¥±¬§£‡,”

The name addressed no longer holds any recognition to Marianne. The name isn’t hers anymore, but it succeeds in making her feel like her body isn’t either. It rips her out of reality, surely in revenge for the day she ripped it from herself. Her eyes refuse to even focus on it and it appears a jumbled blur, so how does it still exert such power?

“I shan’t bother with pleasantries. One of my contacts at your school has delivered to me a most disturbing report. Apparently a group of students nearly had an encounter with ‘some strange great creature’. This comes on top of the rumors of a ‘Full Moon Beast’ prowling the area. I  _ hope _ I needn’t remind you of the damage that could be done if you let yourself near anyone unnecessarily with your  _ condition _ . I sent you there to study, not romp around carefree doing whatever you wish. Even if you somehow avoid killing anyone, if your affliction were to come to light, how do you think that would look for me? For the house that so graciously took you in? If I hear one more thing, I will be rescinding my permission for you to attend that school immediately.

Sincerely, The Margrave Edmund”

Marianne lets the letter drop to the floor, then lets herself drop to her pillow. She doesn’t feel her head hit the fabric, though. And the sound of the parchment hitting the ground echoes like down a long tunnel. She thinks she should probably cry, but her face feels more a stone mask than something she could will to do anything. She wants to change into her pajamas, or any clean clothes, but when she tries to move it feels like she’s just tugging at the strings of a large leaden puppet.

Soon, the lunch bell rings. Then the dinner bell. Then the light from the window begins to fade. She manages to pull her sheets over herself at some point. And apparently she managed to change clothes too. Her body falls to sleep.


	8. Month 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> big extra thanks to demonladys for the help and beta with this one cause its long and important and id have been pulling my hair out over it without her!

Hilda leaves her room and walks the few feet over to Marianne’s and knocks on the door. She smiles to herself, bubbling with excitement for another outing with Marianne and the beast. It is not lost on her that it’s odd for her to be excited for this, but she’s been fighting the feeling all month and has decided it’s easier to simply let it happen. She figures as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone, it’ll just make her better at cheering Marianne up, and she needn’t worry where the feeling is coming from or why it grows stronger when she thinks of making Marianne smile. “Marianne, it’s me!”

Unfortunately, when Marianne comes to the door her face shows the furthest thing from a smile. “Hey Hilda. Look, maybe I should just go alone tonight.”

“What? Why would you possibly do that?”

“Just… I don’t know. You shouldn’t be hanging around me anyways. We even hang out all the time outside of these… outings, when no one should be spending that much time around me at all. You’re just going to get hurt.”

“Is that why you’ve been so distant this month? Marianne, how many times do I have to tell you. I’ll be fine. I’ve handled the beast just fine for… half a year by tonight.” Hilda’s eyes widen and stare off into the distance for a moment before snapping back to Marianne, now accompanied by a slight blush. “Uhm. Yea. It’s been so long and it’s getting better every month, so why stop now?”

“You don’t understand Hilda, I’m cursed.  _ Cursed _ . If you get close to me something very very bad will always, inevitably, guaranteed, happen to you.”

“And? You think nothing bad’s happened to me before? What if I still want to get close no matter how many bad things happen, Marianne?”

Tears well at Marianne’s eyes and trace a cool trail down her warming cheeks. “Then I’d say you’re a very foolish woman. Why would you want that anyways? What do you get out of it?”

“I’m having fun, Marianne, that’s all the reason I need. I  _ like _ hanging out with you and I  _ like _ eating your food and I  _ like _ … well, just, I like doing all this! I have my reasons.” Hilda starts to feel a sense of panic rise in her heart. She can feel the edge of something she’s been afraid of breaching up -- something she’s afraid of either of them seeing. “Look, the fact is, you’re better off with me there, and I’m happy to be there, so I’m coming. You can’t stop me unless you can really tell me from your heart that you don’t want to be around me. You saying I shouldn’t want to be around you isn’t the same and isn’t your decision to make.”

Marianne wipes her face and looks pointedly at her shoes. “Fine. Let’s go.”

* * *

The walk is predictably quiet. The transformation is not. Hilda feels like she did that first time she saw it, but she doesn’t let herself look away.

It is lucky that Hilda has her eyes trained on the beast as it takes shape, because as soon as it settles it begins to act strangely. It shuffles about in place, swiping hard at the earth. Then it scrunches its neck and, from a defensive posture, surveys its surroundings. It spots Hilda, and, without even pausing to growl, leaps towards her with its fangs bared.

Hilda is no animal expert, but she knows this is not the playful spirit that inhabited the beast last month. As it nears her its eyes shine with that same fear she saw on their first meeting. It slams into Hilda but this time, Hilda is ready. Between training with the professor and her “extracurricular training”, her strength has improved greatly in the past months. She stands stalwart against the charge, her feet gouging a path through the soil as she’s pushed back. She pushes the beast’s arms away from her and slams her forehead into its snout. The beast is thrown off from the force of the blow, and Hilda is quick to take advantage of the opening.

She ponders grabbing her axe, but with a confident grin on her face she deems it unnecessary. Her shoulder pounds into the beast’s chest, knocking it back. Hilda muses that she’s glad Balthy showed up and taught her all these unarmed techniques, especially considering how he said that Holst always called them “improper”.

Hilda presses her advantage, and tackles the beast completely to the ground. She presses her shins against its haunches and holds its claws against the dirt with her hands. The sharp points dig gashes into the backs of her hands, but she holds tight. Her fingers mirror the gouging but into the dirt in the spaces between the beast’s. It desperately gnashes at her and as she dodges a bite, its claw comes free to slash at her side. Hilda is undaunted though, slamming the offending claw back to the ground and delivering another headbutt, this time to the chest. It gives the beast an opportunity to bite into her shoulder, but as it does it whimpers in pain. She repeats the attack a second, then a third time. The beast is left wheezing.

Hilda lets out a belabored sigh and sits up. The beast starts to struggle out from under her but it doesn’t have the energy to be quick enough. Hilda mutters, “Sorry about this, pup,” and delivers a punch to it that knocks it out cold.

She drags the unconscious beast over to the base of a tree, and plops herself down, resting her back against the trunk. She applies more than enough vulnerary to her wounds, then grabs a spare length of rope. She ties the beast’s wrist to hers, figuring if it woke It’d wake her too. And Goddess, did she deserve a nap right now.

* * *

When Hilda does wake, it is not a claw softly pulling at the other end of the rope, but a slender, pale hand. Hilda’s first thought is how beautiful it is. Then the fog of sleep leaves her brain and she tries to let that thought accompany it. Marianne is not completely conscious herself, but she is certainly not as comfortable as Hilda right now. So Hilda goes and scoops her up to bring her back to their tent.

Once back in the tent, Hilda leans back in her bedroll. She considers sleeping more, but after her several hour long “nap”, she doesn’t quite feel like it. She removes her torn clothes and grabs a fresh set along with a roll of bandages. She patches herself up, though the vulneraries had already stopped the bleeding and the pain, then dresses. She then grabs her jewelry toolbox. She’s been bringing it for the past few months to pass down time if she has it, but the opportunity hasn’t come until now. She opens it and surveys her tools and materials, wondering what to make. In her pondering, her gaze wanders up, falling on the sleeping Marianne. Suddenly, inspiration strikes.

* * *

Marianne groggily wakes. She scrunches her eyes before slowly letting them open. She sees Hilda sitting across from her, cross-legged on her own bedroll. The woman has some small tools in her hands, different types of pliers in each. Marianne takes a tired but deep breath and her gaze fixates on Hilda’s tinkering. Hilda is apparently too engrossed to notice Marianne’s eyes open and on her, and Marianne is not in any rush to notify her.

Marianne lays still, watching as Hilda makes a twist of her wrist with one pair of pliers while holding the other still, sets one down to adjust something too small for Marianne to even see by hand before picking up a different tool. Marianne is amazed at the patience and dexterity her friend so casually displays. Her hands grip the tools expertly, manipulating them beyond their base function. She makes a twist here with her fingertips, a push there with a thumbnail, then back into the toolbox without needing to look where she’s grabbing. Her fingers seem to dance across every piece of metal and gemstone, playing out a grand ballet that must rival the epics Manuela speaks of. That such grace could come from hands that can swing an axe clean through a knight in full armor in one cleave has Marianne stunned.

She cannot pull her eyes from those hands, but her gaze does eventually progress past the fingers to the bandages on the backs. Her eyes go wide and she looks further to see more poking out under Hilda’s clean shirt by her neck, and it doesn’t take much thought to come to her conclusion. She throws her covers off and scrambles over to the now startled Hilda, pressing hands already pulsing with healing magic against her. “Oh, Goddess no, Goddess no, I knew this would happen.”

“Woah! Good morning to you too Marianne! Listen, it's really fine, you don't have to worry. I’m fine.”

“No you’re not, you’re hurt!”

“I mean, I  _ got _ hurt, but I’m not hurting now. It really wasn’t much at all.”

“But I  _ told _ you this would happen. I knew it, I knew something like this would happen and I let it happen anyways, how could I be so stupid…”

Hilda grabs Marianne’s shoulders. “You did tell me, and I told you that it doesn’t change anything. And it hasn’t changed anything Marianne. I’m okay, and I’m not gonna leave you behind just because of some scratches.”

“But why? It’s my fault! I’m the one that did this to you!”

“You aren’t, Marianne. The beast did this. It may take your body but it’s not you. It’s just a scared animal.”

“Scared? If it was scared of you it’d just run away!”

“I… don’t think it is scared of me though. Maybe a little, after I fought it, but… the fear that beast holds is unlike anything else I’ve seen. I don’t think it can run from its fears because I think what it's afraid of is itself. So no matter where it is, it's cornered and fighting for its life. Marianne, why did you tell me to stay home tonight?”

Marianne stares down at the ground beside them. She didn’t expect Hilda to have thought about this so much. She didn’t even know Hilda knew anything about animals, let alone almost as much as she did. It almost made sense, though.

Hilda breaks through Marianne’s thoughts to repeat herself, “Marianne? Why tonight?”

“Oh. Uhm.” Marianne stays silent for a while, then her hand shakily reaches for her pack. She pulls out the letter her father sent, with the top torn off (that section having turned to ashes in her bedroom). She apprehensively hands it to Hilda, then stares down at her hands while Hilda reads.

When Hilda speaks, her voice quickly raising. “What the FUCK is this? The margrave said all this to you? Hold on, he  _ knows _ and instead of helping you with it he’s just making you feel bad about it? What right does he have to just throw around threats like that without doing anything to help, huh?”

Marianne is surprised to find that the anger in Hilda’s voice doesn't make her feel the same panic that kind of thing normally does. “Well, he took me in, so… it should be his right to treat me how he wishes, shouldn’t it?”

Hilda carefully reaches her arms out around Marianne. “Mari… no, no one has the right to treat you like that. No one has the right to tell you how to live your life. Only you get to decide that.”

Marianne’s eyes go wide and glisten with tears. “Oh… But, I’ll make the wrong decisions. I can’t be trusted with my life, Hilda. If I take the reins I’ll only end up running down everyone around me before falling.”

She clutches at Hilda’s back and Hilda rubs hers. Hilda speaks softly now, the change in her voice from her earlier anger reminding Marianne of those axe-blistered hands carefully guiding delicate metals together. “Marianne… I trust you. You can do wonderful things if you let yourself. I know you don’t think so but just, try to trust me like I trust you. Please.”

“I do trust you, Hilda, but I’m just not good enough to do all that. You overestimate me.”

“I’m not overestimating. I’ve seen you on the battlefield, I’ve felt your healing magic, I’ve seen how you are in the stables. You’re like the beast, afraid of yourself, but you can be so much more than what people like that bastard margrave think you can be. And I’ll be there the whole time, supporting you.”

“Hilda… why are you so kind to me?”

Marianne feels Hilda tense up for the smallest moment before she speaks. “We already talked about this, silly. It’s just what I want to do. Though, there is also…”

Hilda lets go of Marianne and leans back. Marianne misses the contact but notices that Hilda looks nervous herself now.

“It’s selfish. I know it’s selfish. But, I guess I like having someone appreciate me. Sure, I’m useful in battle and strategy, but that’s just what a Goneril must be. There's nothing good or special about anything I do. It’s all just… as it should be, if it’s even good enough. But helping you isn’t something anyone could expect of me. No one else even knows there's a situation to be helped, let alone that I’m the one helping. There’s no one to say ‘As expected of a Goneril!’ when you wake up safe another morning. There’s only you, saying ‘Thank you, Hilda.’ Even with this jewelry stuff, no one knows I make it but if they did they’d just come to expect that too. You’re the only one who sounds like that when you thank me.”

Marianne reaches out to place her hand over Hilda’s, and Hilda looks up with surprise, but she turns her hand over and grabs Marianne’s hand back.


	9. Month 7

Hilda’s feet hit the ground hard, sending flecks of dirt flying behind her. She turns her head and sees the beast in close pursuit. It’s gaining on her. She stumbles, staying upright but losing momentum and with no delay the beast is upon her. It tackles her to the ground. She grabs its claws and wrestles it over. They roll back over back once, twice, three times, landing with Hilda on top of it, out of breath. Hilda lets out a hearty laugh and grabs the beast’s face while it happily licks at hers.

“Aaah, you got me, pup!” Hilda sighs while scratching behind its ears. “You’re so fast, huh!”

The beast cheerily yips in response. Hilda buries her hands in the fur of its scruff, scratching vigorously. When her hands tire she lets herself flop over onto the ground, then grabs a stick she had placed in her axe holster and throws it for the beast to chase after. Marianne would chew her out if she found out that Hilda had left her axe behind in favor of ease-of-fetch-playing, but Hilda knew she could make do just fine without it even if things took a turn for the worse. With how the beast is this month, she would frankly feel uncomfortable staying armed. Beyond just trusting her, it’s downright _affectionate_ now. Hilda knows enough to understand the cause of this but when she tries to think about it her face gets a little too hot and her brain seems to melt.

All this month she and Marianne had been inching closer and closer to each other. Every minute they spend together Hilda hears more and more of that bright laughter from Marianne. She constantly finds herself chasing that sound, reaching for jokes normally below her standards but they work on Marianne nonetheless, and goddess does that make it ever more endearing. Hilda thinks everything Marianne does is endearing. She doesn’t know how much more endeared she can get. Some nights when she can’t sleep she finds herself wanting to just stroll over next door to spend time with her even in the dead of the night. She has no idea what they’d do so late, of course.

Thankfully, before Hilda suffers heatstroke, the beast comes back with the branch and again sets to licking Hilda’s face. Hilda sputters, pushing it back just enough to stem the assault, then pets the top of its head. “Good job, puppy.” A soft smile fills Hilda’s face.

* * *

Marianne returns to camp from the stream with cleaned dishes just as Hilda shovels dirt over the hole now filled with the scraps of their breakfast. They smile when they see each other. Hilda speaks with the slightest hint of nervousness in her voice, “So! Another day off! Do you have any plans for the day, by any chance?”

Marianne tucks a curl of hair behind her ear and looks down, “Um, n-not in particular. And you?”

“Nope!”

“So I suppose we needn’t rush with tidying up camp”

Hilda holds her hands behind her back, “Y-yea. In fact, I could kind of use some more rest so I was gonna get back in the tent, if you, you know, wanna join or anything.”

“Oh! Yes that. That sounds nice. Some relaxation, yes.”

They head back into the tent. Marianne picks up the book she had brought, and opens it to a page to stare at, eyes not even trying to focus on the words thereupon. She glances over at Hilda who has her hands on her jewelry chest, though she does not seem to be making any movements to actually work on anything.

After an untraceable amount of time like this, Marianne speaks up, “So! How was the night?”

Hilda jumps a little at the breaking of the silence. “Oh it was great! We had a ton of fun. That little puppy is so wily when she’s just having fun. This one time --”

Marianne misses whatever Hilda says next because she’s stuck on that word choice again. “Puppy”. She supposes it does fit when the beast is docile. She imagines Hilda petting the beast like it is one. She knows now that the beast and herself aren’t quite exactly one and the same, but, for some reason, that image makes her feel… something.

She shakes her head and refocuses on Hilda. “I’m glad you’re able to just enjoy yourself now. I truly cannot overstate how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me”

Hilda rubs the back of her neck. “Haha, no problem!” She looks down at her toolbox and looks over at Marianne with a lopsided grin. “Hey, um, Marianne, there’s something I’ve been working on that I kinda wanna show you.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, come over here.” Hilda pats her bedroll beside her.

Marianne gets up and gingerly sits next to Hilda. Part of her wants to sit farther away and part of her wants to sit close, and she’s not sure which side wins until she feels the warmth of Hilda’s leg against hers. She looks at Hilda’s hands, which seem to be fumbling with something bright and blue in the box.

“So, Marianne. You know I’m like totally not good with like expressing stuff, heh. But I wanted to, like, show you how much I appreciate you, too? Like I know you probably think I do way more for you than you do for me but I promise you that’s not true. So like, to try to convince you that I do appreciate you as much as you do me, I uh, made something.”

Marianne’s eyes go wide as Hilda’s hands unfurl, revealing an intricate bangle. The base cuff is ornamented with trees that look just like those surrounding them. On one side is a pair of hands holding each other, with an aquamarine gemstone set above them. On the other is another hand, though now holding a beastly yet beautiful claw. This time topped by a pearl moon with an aquamine wolf head set in it. Marianne is in awe at the craftsmanship of it, even without knowing much of jewelry herself.

“Um, it might seem like a lot, but I just, like, enjoy making stuff you know, so I just worked on it when I could, so you don’t have to like fuss about it or anything.”

“Hilda… I don’t deserve something this beautiful.”

“What do you mean? Of course you do Marianne. I mean, I’m glad you think it’s beautiful but it’s got nothing on you.”

“What? Are you comparing me to something like this?”

“Well yea! I mean, you were my inspiration for it. I only hoped to capture at least the tiniest bit of your beauty with it.”

“Hilda…” Marianne leans in towards Hilda, wrapping her arms around her. She affixes the bangle then presses her hands against Hilda’s back. “Thank you, Hilda.” She feels the body in her arms shiver when the words leave her mouth.

“Marianne…”

They part from each other but Hilda’s hands lag behind, slowly dragging across Marianne’s sides. A jolt of electricity shoots up Marianne’s spine and she can’t stop a small gasp from escaping her lips. She looks at Hilda’s face, worried, but is met with an intensely focused look.

Hilda’s eyes are wide, her lips ever so slightly parted. Marianne’s gaze lingers on those lips, which now seem to be struggling to form words. Marianne slides her hand down Hilda’s arm and gently grasps her wrist. Marianne’s eyes flick back up to Hilda’s, then to her lips, then eyes, then lips.

“Hilda…”

Hilda carefully plants one hand on the ground beside her and leans forward into Marianne. Her other hand she brings up to the side of Marianne’s face. Marianne shuts her eyes and presses her cheek into that calloused yet impeccably moisturized palm, and it feels like it was made to hold her cheek so. The hand is now gently coaxing Marianne’s face back towards Hilda’s, and when Marianne opens her eyes Hilda is right in front of her, too close for her eyes to focus properly on her. She leans in, pressing her nose aside Hilda’s and their foreheads together.

“Hilda, are you sure you want _me_?”

“I think I’ve been sure for a while now.”

They tilt their heads forward to let their lips meet, each pair enveloping one of the other. A shiver makes its way through Marianne’s whole body, bringing with it a soothing warmth.

Hilda's hand slides from Marianne's cheek to the back of her neck, and she pulls Marianne deeper into the kiss. Marianne, in turn, moves her hands to Hilda's body. She feels the muscles of Hilda's armas, and the curves of her sides, and her motions grow more and more greedy. When her hand ventures up towards the bottom of Hilda's chest, it elicits a quiet whimper pressed against her lips.

Hilda gets even closer to Marianne now, almost straddling her lap. She takes her hand from the floor, steadying herself only on the woman in front of her now. she traces her fingertips up Marianne's side and tentatively presses her teeth into Marianne's lips. Marianne gasps, gives Hilda a needy look, and pulls her onto her lap. Hilda grabs Marianne's face with both hands and pushes them both down onto the bedroll beneath them, now desperate in their kisses.

Their hands trace up and down each other’s bodies. Their fingers claw into fabric, fumbling with buttons and ties. Their breaths come quick and heavy. Their senses struggle to take in everything they want to, wanting both to linger here and there and to explore all they can.

They lay each other bare.

They lay their selves bare.

Every time self consciousness bubbles up into Marianne’s mind it is shot down by a look of hunger from Hilda. In Marianne’s grasps there is unbridled desire. When they do shake with doubt Hilda’s hands cover them, keeping them firm against Hilda’s skin. Every move she makes is encouraged by Hilda and it emboldens her. She’s not sure she trusts herself to do this right but she trusts Hilda. She trusts the way Hilda says “Please Marianne” and “yes Marianne” and “Goddess that’s perfect”.

When she feels Hilda’s touch on herself she feels both the jeweler and the warrior. In Hilda’s embrace she is precious and cherished. And in Hilda’s grip she is craved for with ferocity. Hilda’s attention seems so attuned to her, with every gasp and whimper being met with another look of starry-eyed desire.

"Goddess, Marianne I need you."

"Hilda, please…"

Marianne can hear Hilda’s nails digging into the fabric between her own fingers beside her head. She is enrobed in Hilda. All her world is Hilda in this moment and it is so much wider and more beautiful than the world she had settled for before.

* * *

They cry out each other's names every time they finish together

* * *

Neither of them quite remembers falling asleep but neither is surprised.

Marianne, despite being taller, is the one who wakes with her head resting on Hilda's bare chest. She nuzzles the soft skin there and feels a hand press to the top of her head.

"Good morning darling!"

Marianne buries her smile between Hilda's breasts, more embarrassed by the casually affectionate words than by anything they had done that morning. "Good morning."

"Hey Marianne? So uhm. That wasn't just like… post-transformation pent up energy or something was it?"

Marianne looks up at Hilda's face, incredulous. Hilda indeed does seem nervous but Marianne never expected her to be the one having those kinds of doubt between them. She smiles softly.

"Hilda. I love you."

Hilda's face goes completely scarlet as she stutters out "I-I… I love you too Marianne"


	10. Month 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and leaving kudos/comments it really means the world to me!! This is a bit of an epilogue, really, and it is rather short. A bit of canon non-compliance in that there's no war but hey they deserve the break.

The sound of laughter bounces off the tree trunks, drowning out the crunching of leaves and twigs underfoot. A pair of intertwined hands swing high. Hilda feels so light even while lugging camping equipment as she looks beside her at Marianne nearly doubled over with a wide grin. 

Marianne wipes the jovial tears away. “Goddess! Well, at least they’re together now. They’re even denser than we were! I never would’ve expected that from Dorothea from all people.”

“Well hey, she could’ve said the same about me before! I’m just glad I got her beat by almost five months.”

“Good thing you did, I don’t think I could’ve handled waiting that much longer!”

“Me neither.”

They stop in their tracks and turn to kiss each other. Hilda reaches her arms up to wrap around behind Marianne’s neck while Marianne’s rest on Hilda’s hips. 

After a long moment with their lips locked together, Hilda drops back onto her heels and sighs. “We should probably finish getting to the campsite and stuff first, huh.”

Marianne giggles and Hilda’s heart swells like it's the first time she heard that. Like every time. “I suppose you’re right.”

They reluctantly part and it doesn’t take much longer for them to reach the site and set up camp. They waste no time in getting into their bedroll for two, ready to get some rest before the moon comes out. Not that they actually spend much time resting.

The time comes far too soon, Hilda thinks. They pry themselves from each other and Hilda goes to her pack to pull out a phial of oddly colored liquid.

“You ready Mari?”

“Mmhmm! Are you really sure Claude’s okay with making this stuff every month? From what I understand it’s no simple matter and he’s so busy with the negotiations.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. That alchemy stuff is fun for him, and after spending all day in a room with Rhea, Dimitri AND Edelgard, he  _ really _ needs his hobbies. Plus he’s happy to help us!”

“Alright, alright,” Marianne concedes while uncorking the phial to gulp it down. Hilda knows from the past couple of months that it doesn’t take long to kick in, so before Marianne’s legs can even start shaking she is already effortlessly scooping her girlfriend up in her arms.

Hilda carries Marianne out of the tent and heads into the clearing. It is a much shorter walk now than before when they had to keep the camp safe from the beast. Marianne clings close to Hilda with a soft smile on her lips. Hilda smiles back down at her.

“Hilda, don’t play too rough with the puppy alright?”

“Hey tell that to her! Last month all she wanted to do was wrestle!”

Marianne presses her face into Hilda’s chest to stifle a laugh. “That’s probably because I couldn’t stop thinking about ‘wrestling’ with you myself.”

Hilda’s face suddenly feels  _ very _ hot even in the cool night air.

“But don’t worry, tonight I just want to relax. You tired me out enough already. So hopefully she won’t give you too much trouble.”

Hilda can’t help the bit of pride she feels, even if she also feels deeply embarrassed to be proud of something like that. She feels Marianne shift in her arms and yawn, and soon she can see the soft breaths of sleep gracing her.

Hilda comes to the clearing and gently places Marianne on the ground and undresses her, folding the robe and setting it aside. Then she sits beside the sleeping girl and strokes her hair while waiting for the transformation. Every time now that she watches the sedated transformation, calm and painless as it is, she feels warm all over.

When the moonlight hits Marianne’s unconscious form, her skin begins to shine with a soft glow. Hilda never got to appreciate the beautiful little details like this before. Without the fear and struggle, the changes take place much more gracefully. As Marianne’s limbs elongate and her body hair spreads and thickens into fur it looks more an ascension than a corruption. Hilda’s favorite part is holding Marianne’s hand while it turns to the claw that once tore through her flesh but now calmly grasps back. The beast does not break out, Marianne calls it to come.

She thinks she must thank Claude again, for the hundredth time. When she and Marianne finally told him about the beast he offered help without even a moment of worry or panic. Hilda may love to complain about him (to him) but he always showed her trust and respect and she is ever grateful for that. Though she does wish he would stop calling the monthly outings “taking the dog to the park.” Even when she started calling them that too.

The beast, with its supernatural metabolism, shakes off the induced sleep and looks up at Hilda. Its tail starts wagging right away.

“Hey again pup!”


End file.
